


New Name and Nothing

by melwil



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-11
Updated: 2011-04-11
Packaged: 2017-10-17 22:39:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melwil/pseuds/melwil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It takes time for Zoe to get used to new things. Spoilers to 5.5</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Name and Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2007

It took Will a couple of months to get used to her new name.

At first he said it with a funny twist, a sting in the tail. His mouth twisted around it; like it was something sour he refused to spit out. Then he accentuated it in different ways, a high note on one syllable, a growl on another. Finally, without any sort of warning, it became natural to him, and that became the moment when her old self slipped away.

Of course, by then they were married, and she was newly pregnant and she hadn’t thought about the grid in at least two days.

Will got a new name too. It was his decision, his concession to the changes which had invaded her life. He wanted something fancy – Mortimer or Eugene – but she laughed until he settled on Charles.

“Charlie. You can call me Charlie.” He chanted, throwing the tattered baby names book across the room at her.

She caught it easily. She had no trouble remembering to use his name either.

 

He took the baby away when she asked him to.

She was exhausted. The baby cried all day, and she lived through her nightmares all night. She walked around in a haze of confusion and memories, almost leaving the baby on a display of tomatoes at the local market.

Will took photographs of exotic locations, and slept soundly through the night. She raged at him silently, mentally thumping him every time the voices in her mind screamed. She looked at him resentfully, wondering when he would see what he was doing.

He held out a wooden spoon for her to taste the meal. She ignored it, allowing herself to sink to the floor, crying. He packed the baby up with all the paraphernalia and walked out the front door. She slept in the kitchen.

He brought the baby back when she asked him to.

 

They sent the child to boarding school, anxious to ensure the best possible education. Charles took him, on a train and then a small plane. She had wanted to join them, but their devotion to privacy and secrecy had prevented that.

She sat on her own, just outside the front door, waiting for the stray breezes to blow over her. She picked up a book – one of the many she had always wanted to read. She was transferring it from one hand to another when someone stepped into her patch of sunshine.

“Zoe Reynolds.” The voice is familiar, of course, but the sun is blinding, making it impossible to confirm her suspicions.”

“I don’t answer to that name anymore.” She replied, lifting her hand to her eyes.

“You haven’t for seven or eight years.” Ruth stepped forward, into Zoe’s line of sight.

“And yet . . . “

Ruth shrugs. “I thought I’d get here sooner. I didn’t realise it would take so long.”

“Are you here to rescue me?” Zoe let the book fall through her fingertips. “It’s a little late for that now. I have a husband. And a son, you know.”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Ruth pulled up the child’s rickety seat and sat next to Zoe. “I guess I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. That everything fell in the right places.”

“And then?”

“And then I guess I move on.”

Zoe shrugged. “I’m fine here. Happy, I suppose.”

Ruth tilted her head to the side. She had allowed her hair to grow longer, allowed it to become a little unruly. Zoe wondered what had happened to her, why she had decided to come all the way across the world to make sure she was okay.

“Are you really happy? Hiding here while you send your child away? Waiting for your husband to return? What are you going to do next?” She grabbed Zoe’s fingers between her own. “Come with me, Zoe.”

Zoe turned, pulling her fingers away. She returned to the safety of their tiny cottage, pulling the door closed behind her. She watched through a gap in the curtains as Ruth picks up her bag and walks away.

She was, she told herself, as happy as she could possibly be.

There was nothing more out there for her.


End file.
